


Bridge

by acedavestrider



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 21:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17108690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acedavestrider/pseuds/acedavestrider
Summary: You shake your head, hand the camera back to him. Traffic moves approximately four feet and you tap your brakes. “I like the ones from the bridge the best,” you tell him. “Even though walking onto a bridge by the highway might be one of the dumbest fucking things I’ve ever heard.”Dave laughs a little and for some reason it makes your chest squeeze. “I’ve done dumber shit,” he admits.





	Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from anonymous on tumblr: dave on a bridge. cue stranger karkat slamming on his breaks to try and talk him out of jumping. dave reveals his camera. he just wanted to take pictures. somehow, romance ensues.

If you have to be stuck in traffic for five more seconds you think you’re going to blow your brains out and consume the fragments as a final act of abhorrence toward society as a whole. You’ve been sitting on this bridge for thirty fucking minutes and you’re moments away from losing the last fragile thread of your sanity to the clusterfuck that is trying to drive anywhere in the city. No amount of friendly radio banter or top twenty hits can reduce your homicidal rage at this point. You’re too far gone. 

You move forward five feet then have to hit your brakes again, and you feel a scream start to rise up in your throat. It’s been a long fucking day of pretending to be a normal human at your shitty, lifeless office job and you just want to go home, change into your sweatpants, and rot on the couch while watching your favorite soap operas. You only have four designated hours of recreational activity per day and you’ll be damned if you lose one fucking second of it. 

Frustration builds up in your chest as you watch the clock on your dash tick forward another minute and you honk your horn for the fourth time, even though it does nothing. The person in front of you honks in retaliation and you flash your middle finger at them with a sneer. Fuck everyone on this bridge, you decide. Every last one of them. 

You inch forward a little more and heave a dramatic sigh, smacking your hands against your dashboard. The radio starts to piss you off so you turn it down, and try to get a look at what the huge hold up is and why so many cars have suddenly decided to stop dead in the middle of the road. You don’t see any emergency vehicles or crashed cars, but you do see a figure standing at the edge of the bridge some feet away. You narrow your eyes, trying to make out what they’re doing. 

It’s only when you move up some feet that you’re able to see more clearly - there’s a guy standing at the edge of the bridge, looking like he’s about to jump. 

If you weren’t already stationary you would slam on your breaks, but since you’re already in the outer lane you just pull as far right as you can and turn your hazard lights on. The guy doesn’t make any movements when you pull over and get out of your car, and you approach him slowly. 

“Hey,” you call. Then again, until he turns to you. You can’t read his expression, he’s wearing sunglasses, so you just continue. “Look, I know shit might be bad, but you’ll regret this if you try it. They say people get halfway down and realize they fucked up and don’t actually wanna kill themselves.” 

You see his eyebrows crease. “Dude-”

“No, listen, I’ve been here before,” you say. “I’ve tried shit, okay? Trust me when I say it’s not fucking worth it.” 

“Man, I…” The guy steps aside, and reveals a camera on a tripod set up behind him. “I’m just trying to get some cool pics is all.” 

God, you’re so fucking stupid. 

“Oh,” is all you say at first. “Well, fuck, why the fuck would you do this on a bridge of all places?” 

He shrugs. “Just thought the view was nice.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you shout, and the guy gets this surprised look on his face that’s both endearing and annoying. 

“If I’m being honest, probably a lot of things,” he admits with a nervous laugh. “But, uh, I’m not gonna kill myself. Thanks though, you’re a good dude, tryna save a random stranger like that.” 

You don’t know about that last part. You sigh, running your hands down your face in an exhausted gesture. The guy just looks at you for a while, shifting his weight from foot to foot like he’s waiting for you to say something, and you address him after a moment of catching your breath. 

“What’s your name?” you ask. 

“Dave,” he says, almost like a question. “You?” 

“Karkat.” 

He raises his eyebrows and nods a little, appreciatively. “Well, Karkat, I’m not uh… gonna kill myself so,” he stutters. “So like, you can get back in your car and everything. I swear I’m alright.” 

“How did you get here?” you ask. “Did you drive?” 

“Nah, I walked.” He says it so nonchalantly it makes you a little crazy. 

“You  _ walked _ ?” you repeat. “On a bridge? By the highway?” 

He nods. “Yeah.” 

“And did you get all the pictures you wanted?” you ask. “Have you gotten this out of your system?” 

Dave steps aside to check the camera, and lights up after pressing a few buttons. “Yeah, they turned out sick, dude,” he says happily. “You wanna see? I can-”

You hold up a hand. “No,” you say plainly. “You can show me later; get in the car.” 

He frowns, a cute little pout. “What?” 

“Get in the car,” you repeat. “I’ll be fucked sideways if I let you walk your stupid ass back to wherever you came from. You’ll get picked up by the cops or a shady drug-dealing rapist and I can’t have that shit on my conscience.” 

He shifts again, clearly uncomfortable. The look on his face is annoyingly adorable, like a confused puppy. “I don’t know, dude…” 

“I just tried to save your life and you won’t even do me the favor of letting me take you home?” 

It doesn’t really make any fucking sense but Dave considers you for a moment then nods and gathers up his camera and tripod. He follows you back to your car, lights still flashing, and you’re happy to see that no stupid assholes have run into your bumper while you were talking to Dave. He climbs into the passenger side and shifts around in his seat for a while, getting comfortable. It takes you five whole minutes to merge back into the road because every single person on this bridge was raised in the Amazon rainforest and thus has no fucking common sense or decency, but soon you’re back on the road and stuck in traffic again. 

“You know,” Dave starts after a few minutes of sitting silently in traffic. “Walking probably would have been faster.” 

You snort, and it’s half a laugh and half a scoff. “You’re fucking right,” you say. “Let’s just abandon my car and walk home. I’m sure no one will steal it.” 

“Stealing a car is actually insanely hard,” he says confidently. “Like, have you ever tried to hotwire a car? That shit is brutal, one wrong move and you’re fried, hair sticking up in different directions all comically like you’re in some kinda cartoon.” 

You narrow your eyes, turn to him. “You’ve hotwired a car before?” 

He nods, “Yeah,” like it’s nothing, and you start to wonder if picking up a random stranger from the side of the road might have been a bad idea. 

You clear your throat and sit in silence together for a little while, barely moving at all. Dave clicks through his camera a few times and then addresses you. 

“Hey, wanna look at these pics while we wait?” he asks, voice a little hopeful. “I could use a second opinion on a couple of them.” 

“I’m not an expert or anything,” you warn. “Can barely take a selfie without fucking something up, can’t guarantee I’ll be that much help.” 

“That’s cool,” he says with a little shrug. “Just tell me which ones you like best.” 

“Alright,” you mutter, taking the camera from him. Traffic is completely gridlocked so you take your hands off the steering wheel to scroll through the pictures.

The pictures are incredible. You feel your mouth fall open stupidly as you look through them, completely blown away by the quality. Some are from the bridge earlier, landscape scenes overlooking the river, while others seem to be from some other locations - a mountain setting, a beach, a cityscape. You don’t know much about photography, but even you can tell that he’s mastered every aspect of it. 

Dave leans over your shoulder as you look through the photos, nervous energy radiating off of him. He stops you on one of the mountain scenes. 

“I’m gonna photoshop this one on top of one from the beach,” he explains. “So it looks like there’s a mountain coming out of the ocean. How cool would that be?” 

You don’t answer him, and instead say, “Dave, these are amazing.” 

He sits back against his seat. “Oh,” he says. “Uh, thanks, man.” 

“Are you selling these?” you ask. You kind of want one to hang up in your living room. 

“Yeah, I’ve got a website,” he says, a little excited. “You like them that much, huh?” 

“Yes, Jesus Christ. How long have you been doing this?” 

He shrugs. “A few years.” 

You shake your head, hand the camera back to him. Traffic moves approximately four feet and you tap your brakes. “I like the ones from the bridge the best,” you tell him. “Even though walking onto a bridge by the highway might be one of the dumbest fucking things I’ve ever heard.” 

Dave laughs a little and for some reason it makes your chest squeeze. “I’ve done dumber shit,” he admits. 

“I can’t wait to hear about it,” you say, a little sarcastic. It’s an implication that you’re going to see him again, and he gives you a small smile. 

After a moment of silence, he starts talking again. He doesn’t seem to be able to stay quiet for very long. “Hey,” he says. “You’ve got a nice profile; I’d love to photograph you sometime.” 

“I’m not a model,” is all you say. 

“That’s cool,” he insists. “I take pics of my friends all the time and none of them are models. Well, one of them is, but… what I’m saying is, it’s not a problem.” 

“Hm,” you consider. You picked this guy up off the side of the road and now he wants to take pictures of you? Alarm bells are ringing in your head but are getting drowned out by how attractive you find him, and how nice he’s being. “Let’s get through all this fucking traffic in one piece and then I’ll think about letting you photograph me.” 

“Deal,” he says. 

You remain on the bridge for another half hour, shooting the shit with Dave. He’s an art student, took a few years off and started college late, and he works as a freelance artist and photographer to make ends meet. You tell him about your shitty office job, and he laughs when you complain about your annoying co-workers and the antics they get up too. 

Once you make it off the bridge, traffic speeds up and you’re able to actually go the speed limit the rest of the way to Dave’s place. Apparently there was an accident several miles ahead and they were directing cars into a single lane, which caused the backup. You sigh in relief when you make it to Dave’s apartment, happy to be out of the car after so long. You walk him up to his floor and he pauses by his front door. 

“Thanks again for uh… trying to save my life and everything,” he says with a nervous laugh. “And for complimenting my pics. Means a lot.” 

You shrug and wave him off. “Consider it a debt to be paid later,” you half joke. 

“Right,” he says, smiling. “Hey, uh, hold on a sec.” 

He disappears into his apartment and comes back a moment later with a sticky note that he hands to you. It’s his phone number. 

“Call me sometime?” he asks. “I’d still really like to photograph you, if that’s alright.” 

You take the piece of paper and feel your cheeks heat up in a confusing blush. “Uh, yeah,” you stutter. “Yeah, sure.” 

“Cool,” he sounds relieved. “Well, I’ll see you around?” 

“Yeah,” you say, and he nods once then closes the door. 

You tuck the sticky note into your pocket, heart thumping an uneven staccato in your chest, and you head home in a much better mood than before. 

**Author's Note:**

> this was an interesting prompt! not much romance there but i think i set it up for possible romance in the Future. might continue this someday with dave actually photographing karkat like he wanted to, we'll see!
> 
> thanks for reading! leave a comment if you like!


End file.
